Bird Cage
by AlphaKantSpell
Summary: When Leonardo buys an eagle from a merchant to free he buys more than he bargained for. Meanwhile his apprentice becomes more and more jealous of the bird. Leo/Ezio.
1. Part One

AKS: I do not own Assassin's Creed because if I did I'd have made it so you could run around as Desmond in the first game.

Back Story to this fic: I had just bought a note book (made of 100 percent recycled materials) where the cover page was this beautiful song bird. I wanted the first story written in the notebook to be just a pretty as the cover so I started writing an Assassin's Creed fic that had been bouncing around in my head for a while. I don't know if anyone else has written anything like this but it was fun to write. It stared out as a three page story and ended up taking up almost half the notebook.

Also, if you like Hetalia please see my New Hope story - I'm quite proud of it.

* * *

~ Bird Cage: Part One~

Leonardo was on another rescue mission, navigating the maze of shop stands for a bird shop. This was a normal habit of his, collecting song birds every week or so to release them.

It pained him to see such beautiful creatures caged up. He would pick a bird that caught his fancy, sketch it, and set it free.

Leonardo scratched his bronze chin, trying to decide which bird to choose.

There were sparrows, song birds, parrots, and birds of pray. Old birds, young birds, red birds, yellow birds. All of them singing, screeching, crying, and screaming. The noise was deafening - Leonardo could hardly hear himself think!

Then he saw it - the eagle.

There was a powerful eagle kept in a great, silver cage. The raptor was large, but not bulky. Its feathers were mixes of white, brown, and red, his eyes a fierce gold. Along the right side of the beak was a thin crack, like a scar in a piece of pottery. The bird watched Leonardo as a hunter, searching for weakness or imperfections to strike. The bird's gaze was intimidating as it swayed its weight from one monstrous talon to the other.

Leonardo felt chills looking at the bird, but then pity. The eagle was sickly, feathers falling out, looking a little _too_ thin. His color was dull and his fierce intensity fading after a moment.

Eagles were not meant to be caged.

His prison was too small.

. . . He was dying. . .

"That one," said Leonardo, pointing to the eagle.

The store keeper was more than happy to be rid of the bird, having been counting the days to it's death.

"The eagle is stubborn and un-trainable. Better off dead," he told the painter, charging Leonardo more money than the bird was worth. The painter did not comment, happy to be doing something for the animal.

Without another word Leonardo marched away from the market, holding the heavy cage with both hands. The eagle screeched and flapped his great wings - unable to extend them fully. Feathers ruffled in an indignant display.

"I know," Leonardo spoke to the bird with a calm, trustworthy voice. "Just hold on for a bit longer. We are almost to my workshop. Once we are there I will sketch you and set you free."

To the painter's surprise the eagle calmed. It panted as it inspected Leonardo with a curious, still suspicious gaze.

The painter felt small with the look.

So strange, to feel such emotion from the eyes of a caged bird.

Arriving at the workshop Leonardo began to clear a space right away. He moved paintings and prints, designs and sketched to make room on his favorite table. The eagle watched, almost like he was impressed with the art work.

Leonardo chuckled, a kind, heart warming sound.

"Would you like to see my work, _amico mio_?"

The bird blinked his large eyes and gave an impatient squawk.

"Forgive me, that was a silly idea. Let me get a paper."

Leonardo set the eagle on the desk with gentle care. He grabbed a shallow bowl and filled it with water. The eagle was grateful, dipping his long neck into it, swallowing it down like a drunk then splashing in the bowl like it was a bath. His feathers glistened in the afternoon light that filtered through an open window.

Leonardo laughed and began to sketch.

After a few moments the painter found this to be an impossibility. The eagle was as spirited as a finch, playing in the water, nipping at the silver bars, flapping his wings, getting the feathers caught in the bars since the cage was too small. Leonardo made a chuckling sigh and stopped, resting his chin in his arms.

"_Amico mio_, will you please stop moving? I can not sketch you when you move."

He spoke out of desperation but the eagle halted his movements, standing in what could only be a pose. The eagle tried to look as intimidating as possible, yet Leonardo knew the look was not real - the eagle was playing.

Surprised, it took Leonardo a moment to act, pulling out a new page and sketching as quick as he could.

He was falling in love with this bird, so powerful, so elegant, so dangerous, so playful.

This eagle had to be his favorite model. Perhaps even better than Salai.

Picture after picture was drawn. Studies of the wings, feathers, talons, eyes, and everything. Leonardo did not stop, even when the sun went down and he was sketching in twilight.

He wanted to paint. He had to paint the bird before he set it free. He wanted to keep the beast but knew he couldn't. There was no way he would keep such a wild bird; it went against everything he stood for. It would be like tying down a dream.

The eagle was getting restless in its cage. He was panting from hunger, thrashing in his cell, biting the bars, pleading for release.

Leonardo's chest felt heavy.

This was wrong. This was wrong.

He had no meat for the bird, the painter being a vegetarian. The poor thing was half starved as it was.

This was wrong.

Leonardo put down his charcoal and picked up the heavy cage. The eagle was angry with him. He'd been kept too long. Leonardo entered his private patio and set the cage down.

He watched the bird with a long expression, the eagle no longer looking at him. Leonardo felt a bubbling shame, like a child who had stolen. And in essence he had stolen. He stole the eagle's precious time.

This was wrong.

"Forgive me, _amico mio_. I was careless."

He opened the cage door by the moonlight, the cage's shadows leaning against the wall to make the whole courtyard look like a jail.

"I hope one day we will meet again. I would very much like to see you."

The eagle look at him with a single, penetrating, nerve chilling stare; and Leonardo knew he was forgiven.

The eagle took a careful, cautious step out of the cage. Leonardo's breath was caught.

The eagle flapped his mighty wings and soared through the moon light, casting his dark shadow over Leonardo.

The painter closed his eyes, envisioning what it would be like to fly on the same gust as the eagle.

The bird perched on the roof of his workshop, first gazing at the moon with vibrant longing, then at Leonardo, eyes intense.

"You are welcome my friend," he said to the bird.

Then, with a flap of its wings and a free screech, the eagle disappeared into the night.

~O~O~O~O~

"Where were you all day?" Salai asked with a moody huff. Not that he was worried, he was just nervous that Leonardo was finally kicking him out after stealing a month's worth of money. He figured the only way to keep a place at the great Leonardo's house was to bully the man into keeping him.

The painter walked past his devilish apprentice in a daze, mind still reeling from his encounter with the eagle. He didn't speak to Salai, Leonardo's mind was galaxies away.

The blond huffed again and stomped off, unhappy with being ignored. Any other time Salai threw a tantrum Leonardo dropped everything to comfort the teen. It was unnerving to be ignored, he was unused to it. Even random people off the street paid attention to him.

It was three days later when Leonardo saw the eagle again.

He and Salai were people watching, sketching the crowds when a shadow passed over the painter.

Leonardo jerked his gaze upward, squinting to see the eagle, tiny in the vast sky. Leonardo's gaping lips turned into a smile as he followed the bird's path.

Salai watched his master, frowning but following. Soon they were in a chase, a race to where the eagle would land. Salai was growing irritated. He was getting hot and sweaty, his expensive clothes getting stained and perfect hair plastering itself to his forehead. He had better things to do but was worried for his master - Leonardo was known to get lost, ending up in a district on the other side of town without even realizing it.

After a few more minutes Salai's mind was made up. He hated running and was fed up with his master's unorthodox behavior. He left, telling Leonardo he would see him back at the workshop.

The painter did not hear, too wrapped in his newfound obsession.

A moment later the eagle dropped in a dive, and disappeared behind a building.

Leonardo bolted, breath heavy as he turned the corner, looking for the eagle. The corner ally was empty for but a single man.

The painter's gasp was loud.

The man in front of him was powerful, clothes expensive, pose strong. He held himself with overbearing confidence, eyes hidden by the shade of his hood but smirk unmistakable on his scared lips. Courage and invincibility radiated from the man, intoxicating Leonardo's senses. The painter was becoming drunk off the man's mere presence.

The man tilted his hood to the side, smirk playful. A scar ran down the right side of his right lips, where there was a crack in the eagle's beak.

He stood still, in almost a diving but god-like pose.

"Painter," he said, voice rich as black coffee, and yet soft like cashmere. Leonardo's breath was caught like in a web. "I have come to thank you. Many weeks passed while I was in that prison - death was a constant thought on my mind."

Leonardo blinked, gaping like a dried fish.

"Wh-what?" he gawped. "You - _you _are the eagle?"

The man smirked again and tilted his head, intense yellow eyes visible. He walked out of the darkness of the ally, reveling his own shadow, a large eagle with his talons scraping against the stone, feathers ruffled in the wind.

"_Si_," answered the eagle. "And now I must go."

"Wait!" Leonardo cried, panic in his voice. The eagle blinked and watched him, expression uncomfortable. Leonardo felt very shy all of a sudden. Embarrassed he combed his fingers through his messy hair.

"Ehh, We only just met again. A-and I would very much like to paint you, if that is possible. I promise not to cage you and if you get too anxious you could leave at any time, I just want -"

He was babbling. Leonardo felt his cheeks heat with a blush.

"Please," he begged, eyes downcast in a bow. "It would mean the world to me!"

Nothing was said. Leonardo feared the eagle would laugh at him - or worse - would already be gone. He looked up, eyes stained with tiny tears.

The eagle was still there, just as surprised as Leonardo was. He chuckled; it was deep but not cruel laugh. The eagle looked away, scratching the side of his cheek.

Was he embarrassed?

Leonardo couldn't tell, the eagle's skin was too dark to see a blush.

"You have saved my life. I owe you this much at least."

Oh yes, a dusty blush was evident over his large nose, so like his true form's beak. Leonardo felt a rush of confidence, nerves warmed by the emotion. The painter was dizzy with happiness, and took a few heavy steps to the eagle.

"But a warning," said the eagle, raising a hand. Leonardo felt his heart stop. "No one else may know of my presence. It could be dangerous for me otherwise.

Dangerous? How could it be dangerous? It didn't matter, he'd do anything the eagle wanted.

"Si, si!" Leonardo replied, grin vibrant and enthusiastic. He could take on the world, he was so happy. "No one will know you are there. I will make sure of it."

The eagle smiled and gave a curt nod, saying "I will meet you there. " before disappearing.

Leonardo blinked and searched for the bird.

The painter spotted him, soaring in the sky again. The transformation so swift - Leonardo didn't even see it!

The eagle landed on a perch to watch the painter, eyes so playful Leonardo felt the bird was laughing at him.

Determined, Leonardo set off to his workshop, the eagle following close behind, soaring through the sky.

The painter was so giddy it took Salai three tries to get his attention. The young apprentice was haggard, hair a mess and eyebrows constricted in bitter rage.

"Did you watch the eagle, Leonardo?" Salai asked again, crossing his arms. The boy was dressed in a simple white shirt and slacks, boots still covering his perfect sculpted feet. A few buttons on his shirt were undone, the boy's face flushed.

Leonardo inspected his apprentice for but a moment. Was it really that muggy in here to make Salai so disheveled?

One of Salai's elegant hands scratched his thick golden mane as he pouted.

He walked up to Leonardo, lips parted as he demanded an apology for leaving him, his own way of saying sorry to the older man.

Leonardo's mind was too frazzled to understand the complexity of his apprentice's implications.

"What?" he asked, trying to move away to set up an easel and some paint. Salai put a tight hand on the elder's forearm, squeezing it in a loving but warning embrace. He wanted to remind Leonardo of who was in control.

"Are you alright? You are more distracted than usual."

Salai stood on his tiptoes to graze a kiss over Leonardo's scratchy chin but the painter pulled away.

"Forgive me _poco diavolo_, I have an urgent commission."

Leonardo pulled away and rushed to the art studio, his parting words a rushed sentence of "Do not disturb me under any circumstances. I need to concentrate."

Salai's glare could kill a Spanish bull.

How dare he!

How dare he ignore Salai!

The young apprentice buttoned his shirt and pulled on an over coat, snarling like a venomous snake. He stormed out of the building, cursing out Leonardo the whole way for ignoring his advances. Many Street urchins and passer-by stared at the angered teen, huffing and puffing like a cheated woman.

The painter did not hear, too focused on preparing everything.

When at last everything was ready and the door was locked, Leonardo entered the private courtyard, fingers trembling as he searched for the eagle.

The bird circled in the air, swooping and reappearing in the form of that man, landing with a graceful thud as his boot hit the stone with a muffled clack.

Nervous but happier than a bride on her wedding, Leonardo led the man/eagle to the studio. Again the eagle searched the room with curious eyes, studying the various works strewn about the room.

Embarrassed, Leonardo pulled at his bronze locks. The eagle watched him, his movements indicating stress. The bird was fighting urges to attack, to kill the distracted rabbit in front of him to make a quick and easy meal.

"How do you want me to pose?" he asked, distracting his own dangerous thoughts. Leonardo jumped at the noise.

"Oh! Forgive me, I was . . .eh. . .sorry."

The eagle rolled his eyes, striding over to a stack of papers and filing through them.

"You apologize too often; stop." The eagle smirked, eyes strong. "These are nice. Where are the one's of me?"

"Here," said Leonardo after searching for the stack of papers. He held them out to the eagle, hands shaking. "Sorry."

The eagle took the stack, gaze scrutinizing. "I told you to stop apologizing."

As he looked over the sketches of himself the eagle's anger ebbed in an instant, a smile playing over his lips. He laughed, another rich sound.

"Theses are great I think if you continue to sketch me I will become so full of myself I will no be able to fly any longer." He stuck a playful pose, smirking with a taunt. Leonardo felt himself blush.

Such a scandalous pose. . .

The eagle continued smiling, setting the pictures down when he was satisfied.

"So, where do you want me?"

On the table, on the bed, on the floor. Leonardo didn't care; he'd take the man/eagle right there.

"Ehem, I - I - uh."

Leonardo cursed his pale skin. He was practically lighting the room with his blush.

The eagle cocked his head to the side, curious, sensual -

Wait!

No!

Concentrate, Leonardo! He's not a real man, he's an eagle!

"There," said the painter, pointing to a stool by an open window. "Please sit there. A-and in your other form, please."

He didn't know if he could keep professional _friendship_ if he painted the man in front of him.

The eagle shrugged and swept to the stool, sitting down. Leonardo watched but missed it again. The eagle stood on the stool in his feather form, running his beak over his ruffled feathers, light cascading over them, making the bird glow. He was in better health than the first time they met; fuller, happier, healthier.

He was beautiful.

Leonardo went to work, wetting his brush and not moving for hours later. The eagle had fallen asleep but kept the pose. The painting was not even close to being done when the eagle awoke, stretching and yawning. He watched Leonardo, feathers fluffed around his beak so he resembled a child wearing a scarf. His eyes were still fogged with sleep.

The eagle hopped off the stool, reverting to the human form.

"_Amico_ _mio_, please," Leonardo said, raising a hand to stop the eagle. "The painting is almost done."

The man/eagle stretched, gaze steady.

He knew it was a lie.

"I am tired and hungry. I have not eaten all day and I need a meal." He crossed the room to stare at the painting.

"Careful, it is still wet!" warned Leonardo as the man/eagle swept inquisitive fingers over it. The paint smeared. Leonardo breathed a sad breath, hours of delicate work ruined.

"Oh!" the eagle was stricken with guilt. He looked to Leonardo, pouting. "I am so sorry!"

Leonardo sighed but could not stay angry at such a face. He massaged his eyebrows and scratched his beard, smearing paint on his chin.

"Do not think of it. I will fix it later," he said, trying not to let his annoyance show. The eagle frowned.

"Still, there must be something I can do for you. . ."

Leonardo smiled. "Your presence is all I need." Really, he did feel better around the bird, like part of him was missing when the bird was gone. He was becoming an avian addict.

"Hmm," the eagle made a contemplative noise. "Then I will return tomorrow to continue the painting."

Leonardo was so thrilled by this statement he didn't realize Salai was knocking until he nearly broke the door down. The eagle had long since departed but Leonardo stayed in front of the painting, gazing with such daze and passion Salai suspected drugs.

When the teen saw the painting he crossed his arms in a pathetic pout Leonardo would have taken advantage of at any other time.

The painter was unresponsive.

"An eagle? Why is that all you can paint?" the apprentice asked, voice a cold snarl. His delicate hands tightened into fists. Leonardo ignored him all day and for what? A bird? Salai _knew_ he was a far better model. He had always been Leonardo's favorite.

The painter blinked and took notice of his furious apprentice like he had only just noticed him. Leonardo's blue eyes shot to stare at Salai's thick, gold woven hair (it was one of the only reasons he kept such a troublesome boy around) before speaking.

"Eagles are beautiful, powerful, elegant, ferocious," he said in defense, labeling off traits on his paint stained fingers. "And this is my commission. It is a very important commission."

"But you _never _work on your commissions!"

Salai knew he was acting like a child but he was far too upset to care. If Leonardo continued this obsession and got bored of him the master might kick him out. Salai wasn't good at anything. If he was turned out on the streets on the streets he'd stay, a petty thief. And at that he wasn't even a good thief. Leonardo noticed when he stole, and to be kind Leonardo was not the most observant of people, always distracted by half mad ideas of flight and the next great painting.

Leonardo massaged is forehead. He didn't have time for this. He had to fix his painting while there was still light.

"I don not have the time for this now, Salai," he said, returning to the painting. The teen stomped his foot again and yelled at Leonardo but the artis was already sealed away in his mind.

* * *

Language - all taken off the internet so if its wrong please tell me

"amico mio" - my friend (masculine)

"Si" - yes

"poco diavolo" - hopefully it means "little devil"; Leonardo called his apprentice Salai meaning "Little Satan" so I tired a nickname myself. Sorry if its REALLY wrong.

Salai was the real Leonardo da Vinci's apprentice. He was a spoiled, devilish child who Leonardo affectionately nicknamed Salai which meant "Little Satin". There is a story of Leonardo buying very expensive leather to hand make boots for Salai but before he could the boy stole it and sold it for candy. Look him up if you care to, his Leonardo's history is interesting. Leonardo left the Mona Lisa to Salai in his will and it was often suspected that he was the object of Leonardo's affection.

My inspiration to write him into the story came from Doubleleaf's picture on deviant art called Salai - please look at her work, it's amazing.


	2. Part Two

A big thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved, and alerted to this story. Thank you all so much. I'll work really hard to make this something epic.

Oh, and the rating is officially **M** now so if you don't like intense man-on-man action please stop reading and find another story. Thank you, and you've been warned.

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~Bird Cage: Part Two~

There was a knock at the workshop door the next morning. Leonardo jolted awake, having fallen asleep at the easel. He was ravenous for food and felt his hair was out of place but jumped to answer the door.

"Good morning. I hope it is not too early," said the eagle, grinning at Leonardo in his human form. The sun had only just come up but the painter felt his companion hadn't come soon enough.

"No, no, please, come in," he beckoned, combing his fingers through his hair.

The eagle grinned and swept into the room, cape flowing behind him. Leonardo fidgeted unsure of what to say. What did one say to an eagle?

Before he could begin to break the ice a sleepy eyed Salai entered the room. The teen blinked and rubbed his eyes, a snarl appearing on his lips, brows constricting into an arched line.

"Who is this?" both the eagle and apprentice shouted at the same time, the eagle frightened at seeing another human, Salai frightened he really was losing Leonardo.

The two opponents glared at one another, the eagle acting very much his part of a larger, dangerous predatory bird sand Salai the overconfident cat about to pounce.

"This is my apprentice, Salai," Leonardo explained, unable to keep the panic from his voice.

He promised the eagle no one would see him. What would happen now? It wasn't his fault the eagle came before he could send the little devil away.

Oh, but he did let the eagle in, saying it wasn't too early.

Maybe this was his fault.

"And who might you be, _Sir_?" the blond was ready for a fight.

"Salai, hold your tongue!" Leonardo chided. Salai's confidence slipped with embarrassment but he kept the spitfire attitude.

"This is my commissioner," explained the painter with a hiss, crossing to his apprentice. "He has come to see how far along the painting is." Leonardo looked over his shoulder at the bird who was smirking like a crowned prince. "I must go to work straight away and must work without interruption.

"I want to help," Salai exclaimed. He would not be pushed out of this house.

"You can help by staying out of the way."

"I am your apprentice! You must teach me."

"If you want to learn, learn not to steal. Do not think I do not notice the thievery."

The room was quiet for a moment. The teen looked like he was about to scream, cry, or slap Leonardo, probably all the three along with attack the eagle. Instead he turned and left, retreating to his room.

Leonardo sighed and tapped the bridge of his nose. He often preached being slow to anger and quick to forgive, but the little whelp was asking for it. Still, it sorrowed the painter that he had hurt his apprentice.

"I went too far, I hurt too much," he admitted, tone gloomy.

"You said what was necessary," the eagle told him, leading Leonardo back to the paint studio. "The _uccellino_ needed what you told him. It is obvious he gets what he wants too often."

"I do spoil him, don't I?"

They entered the workshop, the eagle reaching the easel to inspect the painting.

"You fixed it!" he beamed, his joy uplifting Leonardo so much he couldn't even remember who Salai was.

~O~O~O~O~

It was around mid-day when Leonardo left to get lunch. He was too hungry to focus on anything so the eagle said they could continue again in an hour's time. The bird flew off to catch his own food.

Leonardo sat by the easel, watching for the eagle's return. The painting was mostly done, and the painter couldn't help but to let his mind wander. He would love to sketch the eagle's human form. What did he look like under that hood, under those clothes? Could they be taken off or were they just parts of the mirage? Was it a mirage or was the eagle's human form flesh? Leonardo had never touched him so he didn't know. How warm was the skin? Would it feel warm? Would he feel anything? Which would it be, skin or feathers?

Leonardo found himself wanting to touch the eagle. He wanted to feel those mussels, touch his face, his nose, his ears, his fingers. His mind kept imagining scenario after scenario playing over and over and with each new scene the images got dirtier and dirtier until Leonardo was blushing, finding a _small - _well, large problem in his trousers.

The painter flushed in shame.

Impure thoughts!

Bad thoughts!

Dirty thoughts!

. . .Dirty thoughts.

No, no! Don't think! Don't think! For the love of Medici, don't think!

The sound of laughter woke him from his thoughts daydreams, the eagle lounging against the door frame. He grinned a wicked smile.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked. The painter felt a gritty blush envelop his cheeks but the sultry images would not stop.

"I - ah -you," he admitted before slapping a hand over his mouth. Leonardo closed his eyes, unable to bare seeing the eagle's reaction. The eagle laughed a loud but pleased laugh - Leonardo peeked at him through the cracks between his fingers.

The eagle approached, leaning down to breath against the painter's hands. Leonardo shivered.

"Oh yes? And what were your thoughts?" the eagle's voice changed. It wasn't just playful anymore. It was husky. The voice was low and saturated with a word Leonardo couldn't name but made him shiver with delicious chills. He was almost dizzy with want now.

"Your hood," he said, struggling to find his words. "I was wondering if it could come down."

"It comes down?" the eagle questioned in disbelief, expression as curious as a child's. His fingers found themselves on the hood, Leonardo watching with wide eyes, hands like he was expecting them to burst into flame. The hood was pulled free with a quick flick.

"Beautiful," Leonardo sighed, finally able to see all of the eagle's face. His skin was darker than Leonardo's and his cheeks fuller. They were round and smooth, like a cherub's. His hair was thick and shiny, cascading locks of dark brown, almost black. The hair was tied back with a red ribbon, making Leonardo wonder how the eagle could have possibly not known the hood could come down.

Leonardo stood from the chair, unable to resist the urge to touch the man before him. The eagle's intense golden eyes bore into Leonardo's blues as the painter drew near. His fingers reached to stroke the man's cheeks, and he hummed with approval.

A smile broke over his face, the eagle arching his neck for better access. Leonardo was only too happy to please. He massaged skin with smooth strokes, the eagle closing his eyes in ecstasy.

"I don't even know your name," said Leonardo with a quiet, somber voice. The eagle opened his eyes and pressed close to the painter, chest flush against chest, fingers weaving with fingers, then lips against lips.

It was gentle at first, almost sweet. The eagle nipped at his lip and nuzzled against Leonardo's scratchy chin. A fire was lit, and soon Leonardo was sucking, biting and swearing as the eagle bucked into him, tongue deep in his mouth, nails (or were they talons) raking his back.

He felt real. He felt human. The only thing that showed him to be anything other than human was the shadow - that of an eagle. And the heart beet, like an excited finch in a frenzy. His pulse was rampant, wild, and hot. Leonardo felt his own skin burn in contact.

"Ezio," he spoke when they broke for air, voice husky and laced with arousal, lips swollen. Leonardo felt a swell of pride knowing it was _his_ doing that made the eagle so unraveled. "Ezio de Firenze."

Ezio.

Ezio!

_Ezio!_

Oh, what a wonderful, fantastic name! He couldn't wait to say it, scream it, whisper it and watch the body before him shudder with an orgasm so strong the heaven's would collapse.

Leonardo attacked _Ezio's_ throat again, licking at the mussel and humming. _Ezio_ shuddered, hands clamping around the painter's hips, making a breathy moan Leonardo would go crazy to hear again.

"Pleased to meet you, Ezio de Firenze; I am Leonardo da Vinci."

"Leonardo, eh?" asked the eagle, rocking into the painter's groin again. Leonardo gasped, weaving hands into Ezio's hair, pulling away the ribbon. "Pleased to meet you Leonardo da Vinci."

Before Leonardo could think of another action against the bird in human form Ezio picked up the artist, walking him to a table, knocking several papers to the ground.

He didn't care. Ezio could do anything he wanted at that moment. Leonardo didn't care.

Ezio bit the painter's neck between his shoulder, eliciting a whiney moan from Leonardo.

Leonardo's finger threaded into Ezio's hair pulling away the ribbon and splaying his dark brown tresses all around the man's shoulders. Ezio's smirk was a sinful beacon, a demand for Leonardo to kiss that the bronze haired man was unable to ignore.

They kissed again, all teeth and kicks.

Leonardo had never played so rough before, but he couldn't stop. The eagle was so good at his game.

Clothes were ripped off, expensive, beautiful clothes Leonardo did not morn for, bathing in the honey light that was Ezio.

Leonardo was feverish with want, sweating and moaning like a brothel girl and a virgin all at once.

Those lips, those beautiful lips.

_Ezio's_ lips were on his - Oh god, don't stop!

Ezio hummed and stroked as he sucked; Leonardo saw heaven, earth, hell, heaven again. Images blurred through his mind, sweat rolled off his body as his fingers clung to Ezio, trying to find some stability in this hurricane.

The eagle wiped his lips and smirked when it was over, standing over the painter's exposed body like a pompous king.

Papers were scattered, crumpled or torn. Leonardo was sure the splash of white on the painting was not there before.

He didn't care.

He'd do it again if he had the chance.

He reached up and stroked inquisitive fingers over Ezio's exposed chest, swirling around the man's pecks, pinching a dusky nipple as Leonardo bathed in the afterglow of the best orgasm of his life.

Ezio moaned at his touch, arching that beautiful swan-like neck of his.

Still dizzy from the last orgasm Leonardo felt his member spark back to life.

Oh that moan!

He wanted to be the only one who ever saw Ezio in such an erotic state.

Leonardo sat up and kissed Ezio's lips, his fingers playing with the hardened nipples.

The man moaned into Leonardo's open mouth, the artist plunging his tongue into the other's moist cavern.

His dexterous hands worked their way down, squeezing thighs and pulling away breeches. The eagle panted in his ear, a delirious plea to continue.

Ezio nipped at his neck again and whispered something into the skin as Leonardo freed the man's longer member from its tight confines. Ezio had length but Leonardo had width.

"What was that?" the painter asked, stroking nimble fingers over Ezio's cock, tight then lax, then mind blowing tight. Ezio bucked into the embrace.

"I - ahhah, please - we - _Dio_!" he panted, nails tearing into Leonardo's back.

"You what? We what?" teased the painter, fingers playing light touches across the man's sides.

"Eagles mate for life!" Ezio choked out, tears of pleasure at his cheeks.

Leonardo continued stroking for a moment but stopped when he realized what his partner said.

. . .Wait. . .What?

Did that mean - ?

Oh god, he was a virgin!

Leonardo pulled back, feeling for the first time that he was doing something wrong.

For life? Life?

As in unless someone died?

How could -

Did he -

Could he do -

. . .Actually. . .

He traced Ezio's strong chin, eyes studying the perfected body before him. So beautiful. How could he tire of such an exquisite creature? And he already proved himself an excellent model. There would be no angry family cursing him for turning their son gay. And for that matter no one could accuse Leonardo! He could keep Ezio and when there was company or when Salai was around is lover could hide in is feathered form. No one would suspect a ting!

Leonardo presses his lips against Ezio's, willing the eagle to understand. Leonardo would have him.

The painter soothed and whispered, the candles flickering ever so gently. The mood was soft and passionate, and despite Leonardo's eagerness he was slow with Ezio, caring. They had learned each other's names just hours ago and already they were committing sin together.

Salai banged his fists on the floor but to no avail. The painting, moaning, and unintelligible words were as clear as ever. When the apprentice suffered enough rejection for one night he swept a cloak over himself before storming out into the darkness.

He swore revenge, and one way or another he would have it.

Leonardo returned to Ezio, carrying with him a sickly sweet vile of lubricant. A nervous, shaking smile played on is lips. It had been many years since he himself was a virgin and many years yet since bedding one. True, Salai had asked and even tried to trick into deflowering him (with alcohol and a very encouraging dance the painter still did not know where the little terror had learned it) but Leonardo for the most part had given up sex.

Lust and love were silly things for romantics - Leonardo was a scientist. The only thing he loved was logic, the only ting he lusted for was the pursuit of knowledge. Lust muddled things, dulled senses and thoughts. Leonardo was a busy man. He did not have time for such foolish ventures.

And yet here he was, about to make love to a man he hardly knew who was hardly human.

"_Amante_, why did you stop?" came Ezio's shuddered question. Leonardo had finished prepping the eagle but instead of continuing and making love to Ezio the painter pulled back, swallowed up by his thoughts. The eagle's legs were spread over the workshop table, body ready and waiting for Leonardo. He was flushed and doused with sweat but as tempting as the sight was the artist found himself not as prepared as his partner. He bit his lip and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.

"I don't know. Isn't this all going a bit too fast?"

He hoped to see understanding in his younger lover's eyes but was not surprised to see confusion and impatience instead.

Ezio thought for a moment, expression like that of an owl woken at mid-day.

"I do not understand," he said, shaking his head, sitting up. "You are a fine mate and you seem to be attracted to me. Why should we not mate?"

Leonardo wanted to pull out is hair.

"Ezio, you told me you mate for life. That means you are bound to one partner, _si_?"

"_Si_."

"Then attraction alone should not be the _only_ reason to pick me as your one and only."

Ezio's expression lost its confusion, eyes determined.

"You live well for a human. You are kind and giving. Your life is so at ease you can peruse things an eagle could never dream of - art."

Leonardo frowned, unsatisfied with the response.

"But would it not be better to find a mate of your own species? Of another gender? There wont be any offspring out of this correct?"

Leonardo thought of what it would be like to raise a harpy. He shuddered at the idea.

Ezio threw back his head and laughed at the statement. He rose from the table to kiss the painter, hands weaving into the golden hair.

"You are so cute, _amante_. No, no children. And I would never chose anyone else, Leonardo da Vinci. You saved my life."

Another kiss, slow and somber.

"Most of my family is dead. Those who survived fled far into the mountains - I don't know where they are. I doubt I could ever find them again, even if I searched the whole of Italia."

Sorrow laced Leonardo's kisses and strokes. When the kiss came to a natural end the painter asked, "How did they die?"

"They were murdered." Ezio's voice struck Leonardo with its heated anger, scaled him with its hate. "Poachers found our nest. They took my baby brother first, my father next when he tried to rescue Petruccio. My elder brother was next – together we tried to save our father and brother but we could not. We too were caught. Petruccio was sold as medicine, my father for clothes. My brother went to the poacher's private "collection" – a hall of dead "prizes". I was sold to the market and there I stayed in that damn cage because I refused to be trained or kept as a pet. My pride as an eagle would not allow it."

Leonardo held Ezio in a tight embrace like a suicide victim clinging to a building.

He didn't care if they didn't know each other. They had the rest of their lives to learn, right?

Throughout the course of the story Leonardo leaned his head against Ezio's chest, listening to the eagle's fast paced heart even at rest. Ezio kissed the top of the painter's hair.

"I know I was going to die in that cage, just as my family had at the hands of those poachers. I was living on borrowed time. But you, Leonardo da Vinci. You could have kept me caged, plucked my feathers, grinded my bones into medicine –"

"No, I would never -!"

_Do that to you_, Leonardo tried to say but was unable to because Ezio covered his lips with his own. The kiss was desperate, heartbroken, loving, nervous, and so, so perfect. Leonardo gasped against the lips as Ezio's hands found themselves back at the painter's member, evoking life back into it.

"You saved me, _amante_. You gave me my life back. Who could find a more worthy mate?"

Leonardo nodded, touched by the statement as he fought back tears. He was so easy to break down when with Ezio. It was scaring him by how attached he had become.

Ezio moved with silent grace, first kissing the painter's moist eyes then moving him so that Leonardo was sitting against the eagle's hips. After a moment Ezio returned to Leonardo's ignored member. The artist hissed at Ezio's sharp hold, hands flying to his younger partner's shoulders before snagging into his hair. Ezio continued his ministrations, kissing against Leonardo's neck until the artist's voice was high and raw again.

Member weeping and arms twitching for action, Leonardo gripped Ezio's hips, stopping for but a moment to meet his lover's eyes. Ezio returned the stare, kissing Leonardo's collarbone and he impaling himself on the artist. Leonardo howled in ecstasy, pulling Ezio's face against his chest as he willed himself not to buck into his lover and allow him to adjust.

It was hell.

Ezio's body was such heaven. Such perfection.

It was hell waiting, but he'd do it.

Both men whimpered against each other, both tormented by the other's actions.

At last Ezio, started to move and Leonardo could not hold himself back. He pulled back a bit to ram back into Ezio.

"Hhhuuh," the eagle panted, energy regained as arousal took over. The angle they shared on the table made the position just right.

"E-Ezio," Leonardo whined, gasping when Ezio met his thrusts by bucking down. The painter arched his back, making Ezio moan in turn. His hands reached out and found Leonardo's hair, tugging the artist down for a rough kiss. Leonardo growled with appreciation, hiking his pace, hands grouping his lover's chest and rump.

It didn't last long, being Ezio's first time and the first time in a _long_ time since Leonardo had a partner aside from his hand.

They didn't care. The feeling was so intense, so shattering, Leonardo almost wept from the harsh emotion, pulling Ezio up so they landed on the floor with a thud.

If Ezio was unsettled by the sudden move he did not show it, kissing Leonardo's chest till it was wet. He bounced on the other man's hips, legs, wrapping around Leonardo's shoulders. Ezio arched his neck, shouting Leonardo's name into the air as he came, muscles tightening around Leonardo till the artist felt like his cock would be snapped off.

He lasted only moments later, hands gripping Ezio's shoulders in such a harsh embrace that he scratched and bruised the skin.

When he came to Ezio pulled himself off, kissing Leonardo's hands. The artist smiled, eyes foggy with intoxication, his chuckle was _goofy. _Leonardo was giddy and sated, content to grin and stare at Ezio's beautiful, hansome face for the rest of his days. He stroked the cheek, studied the lips.

Ezio brought their lips together for another kiss, kneading his face against Leonardo's chest again. He was far larger than the painter was but the eagle didn't seem to mind. He balanced against his lover's torso, wrapping arms around Leonardo's body.

The air was cold that night but neither noticed, too drunk in each other.

A few moments of silence passed between the pair before the much welcomed second round began.

* * *

You have no idea how hard this chapter was to write. Not even going there. Anyway, just one more part. And another warning, this story will not have a nice ending so if you don't like reading tragedy (I for one hate sad endings! I have no idea why I'm writing this!) then find another story. The end of the story was decided long ago and will not waver from it. If you want a happy ending then they lived happily ever after, their secret love affair lasting for many, many years.

Language:

"uccellino" - baby bird

"Dio" - Gods

"amante" - lover


	3. Part Three

Thank you everyone for being so patient for this last part. It's been fun writing this story and I hope you've enjoyed it at least half as much as I have. Thank you everyone who's faved, reviewed, alerted, or just read up to this point. A friend of mine on Deviant Art . com has made a few pictures dedicated to this story. Her user name is the-wandering-path. If you're new to deviant art please look up doubleleaf Assassin's Creed art – she's fantastic!

Check my homepage to get links to all pictures.

* * *

~Bird Cage Part Three~

The sun was already up and the morning late when Leonardo had at last woken. After blurry eyes adjusted his first sight was of Ezio, grinning like a fox and watching him, golden eyes alit with mirth. The painter flushed at their closeness and then at the memories of the night before. His voice was still horse.

"Finally, you are awake!" Ezio cheered, swooping close to steal a rough, sloppy, but endearing kiss from Leonardo. "Forgive me _amante_, but I must eat soon or I will not be able to stay awake."

It took the painter a moment to register the comment as the eagle hopped out of bed and stretched, giving Leonardo an eyeful of supple naked skin. He had been distracted a lot lately. Perhaps Salai was right; he needed to practice his concentration - if anything to finish his commissions in time.

"I will see you after breakfast then. Keep the window open. I will return through there."

Before leaving he captured Leonardo's lips again before winking, saying that tonight it was his turn to top.

He left Leonardo with a storming blush and an empty bed. The painter frowned and clustered the covers over himself again, curling into a small, sensitive ball.

The morning was cold without Ezio. Leonardo felt empty without his lover.

Just what had he gotten himself into?

~O~O~O~O~

Several hours later Leonardo found himself in another daze, drawing aimless sketches of eagles at the breakfast table; charcoal in his left hand and bread in his right. Crumbs scattered themselves on his paper, smudging his work. Leonardo couldn't find the strength to care. Without his eagle, life seemed dull. The world was colorless. Gray.

Leonardo hissed a sigh, laying his face against the table.

What would become of him if something happened to Ezio?

~O~O~O~O~

Hours passed.

No sign of Ezio.

No sign of anything.

All the color from Leonardo's world drained away. He paced back and forth through his house, stopping only to stare out the window or to open pantry doors in an attempt to stop the monotony of worry.

The artist liked to work alone. He could concentrate better with out interruptions; pour himself completely into his work. Leonardo couldn't think of a time he felt more alone. The emptiness was gripping, maddening. Leonardo felt himself slipping. He craved attention, touch, even talking would do. Silence which was once a godsend was now a nightmare, like a great monstrous hound licking at his sense of being.

Leonardo needed to get outside. He needed to go for a walk, take in the fresh air an –

But what if Ezio came home before he did?

Leonardo continued pacing, ready to pull out his own hair; anything to stop the agony in his heart.

Perhaps he was just having trouble catching his prey. He had to fly far out of town to hunt.

But as soon as that thought crossed his mind thousands of other worries wove their sticky vines into his mind.

What if he'd been attacked? He was hurt and couldn't fly. What if he'd been taken by a poacher – or worse – lied to Leonardo and found himself an eagle family.

The artist buried himself into his work.

Sketch.

Paint.

Plan.

Anything. Do anything. Just don't think of Ezio.

It was near dusk when he heard the knock. Leonardo flung himself at the door, ripping it open.

The artist's state surprised Salai. The once great Leonardo looked half mad with his disheveled clothes, messed hair, squinted – sleep deprived eyes. The artist's whole body was trembling. It was like the man was a stitched doll with its beads close to breaking free.

Disappointment flooded Leonardo's gaze. His once gleeful eyes took on a darker, emptier look. The sudden change was overwhelming.

"Ah . . . Salai. . .I was . . . was not expecting you," the artist managed to murmur. He slumped against the door frame. It seemed he used al his energy in opening the door.

Salai pushed away all of his worry and confusion for his master. He had come here for a reason. No sob act would deter him from it.

Collected, Salai huffed and flipped some of his hair out of his face. Under normal circumstances this act would without fail catch Leonardo's eyes, but the artist remained impassive.

"And who were you expecting?" he bantered, crossing his arms.

Leonardo felt lost, his breath quick, and his eyes misty with thought.

"I was expecting. . ." he started, gaze falling to the ground. His vision swam.

Had Ezio cast some kind of spell on him? Leonardo had never felt this needy about anything in his life. Not for art, or sex, or even a relationship. The longer Ezio was gone the less like himself Leonardo felt. He would go mad within the week, perhaps even by morning.

"Leonardo?" To his ears Salai's voice sounded like it came from underwater. The artist tried to open his eyes but found himself unable to. There was a sudden weightlessness and then blinding numbness.

Leonardo felt heavy again.

When he opened his eyes he found himself in bed. The sky was dark, candles lit beside his bed. Salai paced beside the door, worry and annoyance etched over his angelic features. What the artist saw next brought tears to his eyes. Ezio sat in a chair next to his bed, so close Leonardo could breathe on him. The eagle had his hood down and relaxed in a square posture. He slept, chest rising and falling in small, steady breaths.

A grin swept over Leonardo's lips, enveloping his entire being.

"Ezio!" he sang. Ezio was back.

The eagle jumped as he woke, toppling over his chair. Salai rushed to his master from the door, climbing onto of the bed to hug the bronze haired man. Leonardo laughed voice strong and healthy.

"Leonardo, _idiota_! I thought you had died!" Salai shouted, holding tight to the older man.

"I only fainted," was Leonardo's sheepish reply. The boy shook his head, pressing his face closer to the artist's chest.

"You gave us both a scare," Ezio said, tone humorous but expression pained. Leonardo felt a rush of emotion at his lover's words. Being parted from Ezio for so long had caused him so much fear and agitation. He wanted to shout and demand what held the eagle up so long, but he could feel only relief at seeing Ezio; hearing his voice.

"I am sorry to have worried you." And he meant it. He himself almost died with fear, he couldn't imagine what Ezio had gone through.

. . . But then. . . Why wasn't Ezio falling over from fear like Leonardo had. And why had he fainted in the first place? Now that Ezio returned thoughts raced through his mind.

Why was Ezio alright, when he himself fainted?

"Something wrong, Leonardo?" Ezio asked, leaning over the bed to inspect the artist. Salai moved closer to Leonardo, trying and failing to shield his master from the strange man who had so consumed him.

"Hmm? No, why?"

Ezio shifted expression dark for a moment before it changed back to his usual cheerful-childish grin. "Nothing. You just looked like you remembered something."

Leonardo watched Ezio; studied him. If the eagle caught onto the look he did not acknowledge it. He sat back in his chair, golden eyes revealing nothing but the false cheer he radiated so easily.

"Sleep Leonardo," he commanded. "We will talk later."

Leonardo wanted to argue. He wanted to know, to understand now, but sleep struck him like an arrow. His eyes were closed and his head back on the mattress before he could begin to protest.

It was early morning when Leonardo woke. Salai was no where to be seen. The artist turned and found himself pinned to the bed by none other than Ezio. The eagle's smile was cocky as he bent for a morning kiss. Despite the stale morning's breath Leonardo found his heart fluttering with joy.

"Mmmh, Ezio," he hummed, tracing the eagle's chest.

"Yes, _amante_?" Ezio sang back, kissing Leonardo's jaw just below his ear. The kiss tickled, causing Leonardo laugh.

Leonardo could not ask. Ezio's presence was far too intoxicating.

Hours of activities in bed past before Ezio had to leave again to hunt. Leonardo protested, begged. He clung to Ezio, said he would buy meat. Ezio refused, his meals had to be fresh.

Another three solid hours inched by before Salai barged in, uncaring if his master and his "friend" were busy with another commission.

Leonardo's room lay in a state of disarray. The blankets were soiled in sex, thrashed and crumpled around Leonardo like a nest or cocoon. Papers littered the floor, ripped and dirtied. A chair was knocked over and the window flung open wide. In the middle of it all sat Leonardo, expression dazed and body limp. The man looked a shell of what he once was, fouled and sticky with sweat.

What was worse was the smell. It was a sickly sweet musk of stale flowers, dust, sweat, and sex.

"Leonardo?" Salai asked from the doorway. His voice was tiny from the awkward situation. He was about to ask again when Leonardo turned his vacant gaze on him.

Salai's heart leapt into his throat. Leonardo had always been a little eccentric but the man before him looked half mad with loss. Wrinkles and tear stains taxed his face. His hair disheveled and tangled like a wild forest. Aside from that the artist was stark naked, skin marred with love bites and scratches.

Salai rushed into the room, slamming the door shut. Leonardo didn't even bat and eye at the sound. The young apprentice moved to his side, reaching out to touch Leonardo's shoulder. The man's skin was cold to the tough, like his veins ran with ice instead of blood.

"Leonardo, talk to me," Salai shouted, slapping the older man's shoulder. Nothing happened for a long moment. Even Salai felt he couldn't breathe.

"Ezio," the artist murmured, voice broken. Fresh, hot tears swamped his red eyes. "He left. He left."

Salai grabbed Leonardo's chin, forcing the older man's gaze on himself. "Look at me, Leonardo!" he hissed. "I am here! I am here and that _porca_ is not! Forget about your _Ezio_, he is no good for you!"

Leonardo recoiled as if stung with a fire poker. He curled in on himself, rocking like a child.

"He's gone. He's gone," he sobbed, chanting on and on in an endless mantra.

Leonardo was insane.

Salai started to back away, for the first time truly frightened by his master.

"Don't go Ezio!" Leonardo pleaded, voice hysteric. He lunged for Salai, hands groping at the teen's arms and neck. Crying out in alarm Salai swung out his hands to protect himself, swatting the frail, crazed artist away.

"I am not Ezio!" he shouted, leaping away from his master. "There's something wrong with you-!"

"Don't go!"

Leonardo was out of the bed and chasing after Salai. The teen did the only thing he could think of and ran out of the house. Crying and unable to understand anything that was happening to him, Leonardo collapsed by his bedroom door.

"Ezio!" he screamed into the empty house. "Where are you Ezio!"

~O~O~O~O~

Leonardo didn't know if days or hours passed. The sun was high in the sky and his body felt so weak pain couldn't be felt anymore. He felt thin, like paper. His chest was hollow and empty. His throat burned from how dry it was and his eyes strung from shed tears. His mind felt trapped in a dizzy mirage and he didn't know weather it from from lack of Ezio or food. He hadn't eaten anything in the last two days.

His body protested violently against the withdrawal – but a withdrawal from what?

Ezio; of that he was sure.

Only Ezio could do this to him.

He continued to exist in his self educed purgatory until Ezio returned. The eagle flew in through the window, expression sated with a belly full of meat. He took one look at Leonardo's disarray and wept.

"_Amante_ – what happened?" he asked, rushing to Leonardo's side, kissing his forehead and chest.

The artist blinked eyes bleary. A smile crept onto his lips as he let the sensation of being kissed by his lover sink in. All his pains and aches melted away at Ezio's kisses. Leonardo felt he could breathe freely for the first time in a lifetime. Ezio's lips were so sweet, like honey, and his natural musk was more like cinnamon than sweat. He wrapped his arms around Ezio's neck and allowed himself to be carried to the bed where the eagle pressed more kisses to his forehead.

"You," he said when Ezio slowed. "You left me."

The eagle pulled away, expression dark. "But not for long; just the afternoon."

"Long enough."

His words hung in the air like an execution sentence. Minutes passes. Ezio calmed but the dark expression never left.

"Ezio, what's happening to me?"

The eagle did not answer immediately. He took Leonardo's hands in his own, kissing each knuckle then the palm. It was obvious the painter had not taken up his art all day. His hands were dry but not from use, rather the lack of it.

"I think," Ezio started, "my magic is taking affect on you."

"Your magic?" Leonardo questioned when the eagle didn't elaborate.

"Yes, the magic I use to change and keep this human body." He made an extravagant gesture.

"So. . . you are suggesting I have become addicted to your magic?" At Leonardo's question Ezio nodded grimly. "But Salai is not affected by you're departure like I am."

"That brat is not my mate," Ezio snapped. He took a calming breath and explained himself further. "My family is an ancient race, Leonardo. Secretive. We stay clear of humans and humans usually of us. Our paths do not cross but on rare occasions – and then for no longer than a day. Few words are spoken and relationships go no farther than acquaintances."

"So because I have had sex with you I am dyeing?" Leonardo wanted to pull his hair out at the injustice. Just when his life was going good and he has the perfect model for a partner this death sentence was set on him.

"You will not die," Ezio affirmed, taking his hands. He rocked the bronze haired man in a gentle rhythm. Leonardo let his lover cradle his head, mind racing to find a solution. "You will not die."

~O~O~O~O~

Late the next morning Leonardo awoke to Ezio pressing tender kisses to his forehead. The eagle smiled as his lover mumbled sleep drunken words. His blue eyes opened, clearer than they had been in days.

Leonardo was getting better.

He snuggled into Ezio's embrace, generating a heat that warmed the eagle to his core.

"Will you leave me again?" the artist asked.

Ezio had been expecting the question but it still managed to chill him. To think he was the reason Leonardo had become so ill. The thought made Ezio sick. He nuzzled against Leonardo's chin to rid his mind of the saddening thoughts.

"Eventually, but not today. Tomorrow, I think."

"Good." Leonardo kissed his lips, Ezio allowing him entrance at once. They kissed, heat flushing their skin. "Good."

They sat in bed as the afternoon sun rose, kissing but for the most part enjoying each other's company. Leonardo pulled away when his stomach's growl became a roar. He hadn't eaten in three days. Ezio scooped his lover into his arms without another word, leading him to the pantry.

The two sat in silence as Leonardo ate, hands entwined. A soft smile played on the artist's lips.

"Ezio, I would like to paint you again."

There was a flurry of movement at Leonardo set up his charcoal and easel. Ezio tried to help as much as he could but was soon sentenced to sit on a table. Leonardo was giddy as he sketched, but intense.

First Ezio was in his clothes, the hooded cloak he always appeared in when he changed. Leonardo sketched and sketched, eventually pulling aside a color sheet for later use. Ezio took several poses, not all of them innocent. Leonardo found himself blushing with pricks of lust but ignored his body's wants. He had worked to do.

Next Ezio stripped down to a simple white shirt and pants. Leonardo drew this stage, eyes zeroing in on the slim hips, broad shoulders, and the scar tarring across Ezio's lips. He studied this scar and the golden eyes, frustrated because he could not match their passion in his art. Nothing was as beautiful as the original.

"How did you get the scar?"

Ezio was quiet for a moment, listening to the scrape of Leonardo's charcoal against the paper.

"I got it from the poachers who took my family."

Leonardo's sketching stopped as he looked at Ezio. "I am sorry. I did not mean to –"

"Don't think of apologizing," Ezio interrupted. Then, after a moment, he laughed. Seeing Leonardo's questioning expression the eagle elaborated.

"My brother, Federico, teased me for days about it. He said things like '_God, help my poor baby brother; that face of his is the only thing he has going for him'_. At the time I told him to fuck off but I realize now he was only trying to lighten the mood."

"And that's lightening the mood?"

"Yes, in Federico's own crude way. It got Petruccio to laugh and that's all that mattered. As long as Petruccio was smiling the _bastardi_ could do anything they wanted."

A sadness found its way into Ezio's golden amber eyes. Leonardo wanted nothing more than to sooth it away but found his hand sketching away as if it had never stopped. Creativity would not be stilled.

They continued, and more of Ezio's clothes were stripped away. The eagle posed nude and fully erect. His skin glistened in the twilight's glow. His member stood for full for display. A hunger pooled in his eyes, a hunger Leonardo was sure his own eyes reflected. A heat swelled in his gut at the sight, far too enchanting not to look at. Leonardo drew three poses before physical temptation became too overwhelming. He dropped the caracole and met Ezio half way across the room, his lover just as eager as he.

Lips met, fingers wove, hips thrust. Ezio's supple rippling skin was a fantasy of perfection – too good to be human. He was young and egger and so, so powerful.

He helped Leonardo out of his clothes, worshiping every inch of exposed skin.

Leonardo felt loved, complete. He had never been kissed so deeply, so passionately. Leonardo was a treasured item in Ezio's hands, a god. They thrust and touched and kissed like affection starved scoundrels. Everything was hot and intense. Leonardo felt a fire burning at his very core, burning the edges of his sanity as he was pushed over the brink of reality and into ecstasy.

Ezio thrust into Leonardo and sex had never felt so right. Tears formed at his eyes from swirling emotions and pleasures. Ezio kissed them away, soothing Leonardo with the deep timber of his voice.

Ezio's large hands mapped out his body, caressing every curve until his inquisitive fingers came to Leonardo's throbbing erection.

Ezio pumped it as he thrust into Leonardo, the artist arching his neck and back until he was half off the floor.

Their game continued into an endless night of pleasure until Leonardo collapsed with an explosive, all consuming release.

He lay limp, exhausted and overwhelmed as Ezio continued to thrust into him, riding out his own orgasm.

The pair kissed again in the rising moonlight, bathed in shadows and their own release. Leonardo decided Ezio looked best like this, hair loose and frayed, skin love bruised, and eyes growing with a numb, sated lust that could only be love.

He was absolutely perfect, and Leonardo would never let him go.

~O~O~O~O~

"The wind is strong today – I can feel it," Ezio announced as Leonardo ate his breakfast. The artist cast his lover a strange glance across the table.

"Oh, yes? And what does that mean?"

Ezio laughed as he swooped down to press a firm kiss against Leonardo's lips. "It means flying today will be difficult – but exciting."

Leonardo paused to study his lover's predatory expression, eyes alit with excitement. Sometimes he forgot Ezio was an eagle.

"Will it be dangerous?" the artist questioned with an innocent look.

"Only the best weather is." Ezio pulled away and whooped to the air.

"I won't allow it." Leonardo's tone was sharp as he crossed his arms. Ezio returned from his high, staring at the artist like the man had just sentenced an execution order. The look was pathetic and pulled at Leonardo's heart. He fought his instincts to rush to Ezio's side and kiss away the pout. He had to be strong for this. He had to protect Ezio from himself.

"But I need food – "

"I can buy you food."

Ezio stared, mouth parted as he glared.

"And I need to fly – to be free in the wind."

"No. You _need_ to stay here with me."

Leonardo crossed the room to Ezio's side. He tried to hug the man but Ezio pulled away, a hateful look darkening his amber eyes. Leonardo's heart sank, but he reached out a hand to cup and stroke Ezio's face. Although the eagle looked like he was about to snap at Leonardo's hand, he allowed the artist his touch.

Leonardo's hands were warn and calloused but warm and so, so soothing. With in a mater of moments Ezio arched into the artist's crafty hands.

"I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

"Something _will_ happen to be if I don't get out." Ezio kissed Leonardo's palm, telling the artist that he forgave him for being so unfair but would not stand down.

"At least wait until the winds are clear."

Ezio puffed a growling-sigh but relented, tossing his hands into the air and shouting, "Fine, damn it! But know that today is a day I pray for. Nothing is more thrilling than flying in this weather – not even a hunt."

Leonardo nodded, pulling Ezio back to kiss him. The eagle did not respond but Leonardo wasn't expecting him to anyway.

"_Cara mia, ti voglio bene_!" he shouted, hugging Ezio as he nuzzled the eagle's chin. Ezio laughed and Leonardo knew he was forgiven.

"So what now?" Ezio ventured when the high emotions from their argument passed. Leonardo thought for a moment, making an exaggerated face Ezio laughed at and rewarded with a kiss.

"May I sketch you?"

Ezio leaned in for another kiss, scratching his face against Leonardo's beard.

"Yes, you may."

"In your eagle form, _per favore_. I want to study your wings for a flying machine."

Ezio laughed again, shaking his head. "Leonardo, human's can not fly."

"And eagles can not take human form and have decent relationships with them."

"Now you're just being stingy." Ezio nipped at Leonardo's neck. The artist jumped at the touch, blushing and laughing as he pushed his lover away.

"Control yourself. I want to sketch you now. We can make love later."

"Yes _Leonardo_," Ezio droned, rolling his eyes but managing to keep his playful smile. He kissed Leonardo once more and made sure to give the artist's rump a good slap before taking him more natural form again.

He flew to his usual spot on the table by the window, poofing his feathers and cackling at Leonardo's bemused if a little embarrassed expression.

The gentle rhythmic scratch of Leonardo's caracole lulled Ezio into a deep sleep. He hoped the artist wasn't upset with him for the nap but a full day and a half without food (and heated lovemaking) made Ezio sleepier than he had been in months. And it was nice to take up his old form. It felt natural; safe.

He yawned and stuck his head under a wing. The room was quiet as Ezio slept. He woke once when Leonardo picked him up but the love and warmth his partner provided put out any alarm.

"Go back to sleep, _amato_. You are safe."

And Ezio believed it. He made a soft cooing noise he was sure Federico and Claudia would laugh at him for. It didn't matter – they were gone and Leonardo was here. Ezio closed his eyes again, at peace with his new life and his precious, kind lover.

A sharp metallic clank woke Ezio again. This time Leonardo's warmth was not there to sooth him back to sleep. Ezio made a screech of distress, trying to beat his wings. They couldn't move completely – and Ezio knew he was back in the cage.

"I am sorry, Ezio. But this is the only way I can keep you here with me."

Ezio wailed a cry so loud and piercing Leonardo cupped his ears.

"I know you are angry but I have to protect you!"

Ezio hissed and screeched, and snapped at Leonardo. His eyes glowed with an angry fire, so consuming the artist rushed off to sketch them. Ezio clawed and snapped at the bars but the gilded prison would not yield.

Ezio was stuck. He was Leonardo's prisoner until the artist tired of him, and by how addicted he was to Ezio's magic the eagle knew that would be for a long time.

~O~O~O~O~

Ezio cried throughout the entire day and night, wind howling and moaning just outside. The weather shared his pain and anguish, cutting at the windows and doors. Ezio convinced himself to make as much noise as he could. If Leonardo was going to cage him Ezio would make sure the artist would regret every second wasted.

And if worked for the first few hours. Leonardo fluttered and bustled about the house, getting a small water dish and anything he could think of to ease Ezio's suffering. The eagle refused everything Leonardo brought him, biting Leonardo's probing fingers. Leonardo was even brought to tears as one point from shame and anguish, but did not let Ezio free.

Ezio steeled his mind.

It was not Leonardo crying – he didn't have to feel sorry for the deranged man who took over his lover's mind.

Half way through the first day a knock was heard over Ezio's screeching. Leonardo stood from the painting he was working on, checking his image in a mirror before he answered the front door. He looked dreadful, eyes puffy from the tears and general appearance sloppy from the stressful day and sleeping several hours prier.

His visitor banged on the door, the energy behind it so strong dust shook off near by objects.

"Coming, coming! Give me a moment!" Leonardo shouted, having to raise his voice several levels to be heard both through the door and over Ezio's racket.

Leonardo opened the door a crack. As soon as it was open the person knocking shoved it wide. The frantic man clawed his way into the house, pushing Leonardo aside.

"_F__accia di stronzo_ , you can't just barge into someone's house!" Leonardo shouted, reaching out to force the man away. He swatted Leonardo's away, slamming the artist against a wall.

"Where is it?" he asked, eyes deranged. The man wore scuffed clothing and smelled of alcohol and sewers. His hair was unkempt, more so than Leonardo's. Beneath all the sweat and grime the artist recognized the man.

He was the shopkeeper; the one who sold Ezio to him in the first place.

What on earth happened to him?

"What? What do you want?" Leonardo struggled to ask. The shopkeeper pinned him to the wall, forcing air out of his chest.

"You know what! The eagle! Where is the eagle?"

Ezio. The man wanted Ezio.

The man was suffering from the same magic withdrawal that compelled Leonardo to lock up Ezio in the first place.

"I released it the first day I bought it," Leonardo explained, telling the truth. He didn't have to tell the other man he caged Ezio again after he came back.

"Lies!" the shopkeeper hissed. "You have it! I know you do!"

"I release all the birds I buy! You know this!"

The man seemed half convinced when the worst thing possible happened. Ezio started in alarm. His shrill, eerie cry wailed without end. Leonardo paled as the shopkeeper dropped him, sprinting to the room Ezio was in. Before he could even breathe the artist barreled after the intruder.

"Don't tough him!" Leonardo screamed, tackling the shopkeeper. The stronger man punched Leonardo off of him, sending the artist crashing into his own easel.

Back on his feet Leonardo charged again, ignoring the pain in his bruised chest. He stopped the shopkeeper just before reaching Ezio, the eagle squawking and beating his wings. His golden eyes met Leonardo's blue.

Fright. Anger. Distrust. Worry.

The emotions changed so fast.

Leonardo grabbed Ezio's cage – it was much heavier than he remembered. The weight didn't matter. Leonardo had to run away. He had to take Ezio somewhere safe.

The shopkeeper caught Leonardo's leg on his way out the door. The artist tumbled and dropped the cage, Ezio shirking again as his prison rolled across the floor. Leonardo watched in horror as Ezio flailed and the shopkeeper reached out for him.

"No! Don't touch him!"

Leonardo struggled, kicking and punching and biting like an animal. He smacked and tried to gouge but the other man was too heavy to make any damage. He punched Leonardo, giving the artist a black eye before he retrieved Ezio.

Groaning, Leonardo reached for a paintbrush by the fallen easel. Leonardo's grip became vicious. He charged the man – the thief who was stealing Ezio.

Leonardo didn't think as he attacked. He didn't feel. All he could see was blinding rage as he gouged at the shopkeeper with the end of the brush. All he could remember were pressure points, spots in human anatomy that would cause the most pain.

Leonardo funneled his fury into his strikes, twisting and bludgeoning.

Ezio was dropped again, his cage rolling out of harm's way.

"Leonardo! Leonardo da Vinci! Stop! Stop!"

A hand caught his and Leonardo dropped his bloodied paintbrush. He stared for the first time at the ruined shopkeeper. Leonardo worked on his fair share of corpses but never had he seen anyone so mauled. It was horrifying to know the damage was caused by his own hands. What was worse the man was still alive, writhing in bloodied agony, trembling hands trying to put together his torn face.

Leonardo felt vertigo like he had never felt, his stomach churning and almost emptying itself. If it weren't for the guard holding his arm Leonardo would have collapsed.

"Easy. Easy," the guard soothed, allowing Leonardo down. The artist sat with his head between his knees, whipping sweat off the back of his neck. A second guard tended to the shop keeper. Ezio continued screeching from under the table he rolled to.

"We were on patrol when we heard you fighting. What happened here?"

Leonardo looked up to the guard, eyes wide with child-like horror. He gaped and tried to speak but floundered.

Where to start?

One minute Leonardo was tending to Ezio and the next he was stabbing a man's eyes out with a paintbrush.

"_Mio dio._"

Leonardo swallowed, blinking to clear his thoughts.

He explained to the guard how the shopkeeper barged into his house – how he demanded to take Ezio and their tussel. He told the guard how he almost got away but the shopkeeper was too strong. He told the guard that Ezio was his prized possession – his reason for life. He couldn't and wouldn't let the shopkeeper take Ezio. And then he fought back. He was blind – he didn't know what he was doing. He was protecting Ezio and himself from the thief who threatened and assaulted Leonardo.

And the guard believed him.

They left Leonardo, telling him to lock up and ask who was at the door next time. They took the shopkeeper and let Leonardo off with a warning. They let him go; convinced Leonardo da Vinci was only protecting himself. It was just another normal day in the big city.

Leonardo picked Ezio's cage back up and hugged it. Ezio bit the artist hard enough to draw blood. Leonardo hugged tighter, refusing to let go.

"I love you," he whispered, whipping off his wound on the front of his trousers and placing Ezio by a window. "I'm so happy you're alright."

Ezio hissed and snapped again.

Let me go.

Leonardo could feel the words. They consumed Ezio's entire being.

Let me _go_!

"I love you," Leonardo repeated, blowing a sad kiss at Ezio. The eagle hissed and started his cacophony of noise again.

* * *

Okay, so I know I said this was going to be the last chapter but there was so much to this one and so much spill over of stuff I haven't gotten to I'm extending it another chapter. Believe me, it's better this way. There'll be more time to go further into depth details I want to explain. Also, sorry that it's taken so long for this chapter and it's still not even a conclusion. Oi.

Thank you for reading thus far and please critique me if you could. I want to become a better author. Also – I know I have problems with spelling. Sorry about that, but I know. Critiques on my style or other things like that would be greatly appreciated and will make the last chapter that much better.

Again, thank you all and have fun reading,

AKS

amante- lover

idiota – idiot

porca s.f. (vulgar) slut, bitch.

Cara mia, ti voglio bene - My darling, I love you

per favore – please

amato – beloved

Faccia di stronzo - Son of a bitch

Mio dio – My God


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